


Human

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Safe House (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bathing/Washing, But Frost takes care of him, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fandom Stocking 2018, Fix-It, Friendship, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Weston, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Film, Recovery, Romance, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: “You’re a better man than me, Matt,” Frost whispered and Matt grasped those words, pulled them over him like a blanket long craved.





	Human

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwoAxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoAxes/gifts).



> A gift for twoaxes’ stocking for Fandom Stocking. Thank you for all of your glorious prompts, I totally sneaked some of them in here.

 

_Frost is okay, he’s fine, he hasn’t been shot and he’s here, right here, he came_ back _for me…_

Feeling a hand splayed at his back and holding onto a voice pitched low and soft, Matt spiraled down into the darkness.

 

...

 

When he woke Frost was shaving him, in the bathtub, speaking words in such a hushed voice that Matt couldn’t make out anything of what he was saying. He was a little disconcerted to find a razor at his throat, but if he couldn’t trust Frost after all this then who could he trust?

He couldn’t just trust himself, couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He would break again, break break break and shatter into a hundred pieces all over this horrible bathroom, submerged in blood-tinged water, shivering and waiting for Frost to notice he was awake and pull him out.

He was tired of waiting, so damn tired and just wanted to crawl into a hole and feel safe again and sleep ten _years._ “Frost…”

“Another five minutes,” Frost spoke calmly, but it was still an unmistakable warning. His hands were so damn steady as they swept swiftly though carefully across his throat. Matt tried not to move and dared not even swallow, but he needed to lay down in a bed sometime _very_ soon. His limbs were screaming and screeching and radiating crackling electricity, trembling fits flaring up like _lightning_ and Frost would pause patiently every time they did _,_ and his head was going fuzzy like it was being submerged into liquid fire.

Not to mention, the water he was lying in had long since gone bitterly cold, nipping at his sensitive skin. He needed sheets and softness and solidity, though it was Frost’s arm slung across his back, his body a hard weight he could lean mercifully lean against that kept him here at all, sane and in one piece and _alive._

Matt choked on a breath as his limbs finally ceased their shaking, slamming down into the cold marble of the bathtub. He bit his tongue and spluttered in an agony he was convinced only he could comprehend.

One last scrape and Frost was finished, wiping the razor off _painstakingly_ slow on a towel.

Matt was amazed at just how long he could wait. The last few days had been _slow down slow down_ please _just let me catch up just let me catch my breath…_

Now, running water and metal against marble and - Matt half-lost in some dream - Frost taking his time with him, like he was preparing him for his own goddamn funeral.

The gentleness with which Frost lifted him out of the bath and carried him into a bedroom, settling him into an _actual_ heaven-sent bed like the one he had last woke up in was _palpable_ , so much so that Matt wanted to sob in a relief greater than he’d ever known. Instead, his eyes slipped shut of their own accord, finally losing the battle over fear and confusion and curiosity. He didn’t want Frost to see tears of exhaustion and pain anyway. At least he felt clean again and that was all due to the other man, whose shadow he could feel hovering over him, waiting for him to croak.

_No, Frost saved me. He could have left me but he came back. He_ cares.

Matt’s eyelids flickered, struggling to open, wanting to see the ever-guarded expression on Frost’s face. Instead, he focused on his limbs being tucked in under sheets, a thumb swiping quickly across his damp cheek, the creak of a chair pulled closer.

“You’re a better man than me, Matt,” Frost whispered and Matt grasped those words, pulled them over him like a blanket long craved. “Sleep. Rest and heal.”

Lips against his temple next and Matt floated away on rapidly moving clouds.

 

...

 

A spoon was insistently pressed against his mouth when he next woke. He turned his head to the side, shifting uncomfortably under sheets which now seemed to confine him. The hands followed him regardless, the metal cold now that he was more aware and Matt’s mouth opened in reluctance. _Peaches?_ He smiled at the sticky syrup soothing the creakiness of his throat, discomfort he hadn’t even realized was there.

He spent minutes stubborning trying to open his eyes only for bright light to make him cry out. A thick strip of cloth closed in over them in reaction and another spoonful chased away the lingering pain in his throat without Matt even having to ask.

“Give it a few days.”

Easier said than done.

 

...

 

And yet the third time he woke he felt no better. His teeth were chattering, throbbing eyes still shielded, a degree of vulnerability Matt was sick to his stomach with. Someone shifted at his back, pressed what felt like a chin lightly into his shoulder. Matt felt more than a little disoriented, hell, he was blind and freezing his ass off and obviously confined to strict bed rest.

Frost, sensing his heightening discomfort, sat up, but he never deprived Matt of physical touch, of his hands rubbing chilled skin or brushing back matted hair.

“Easy, Matt. You’re not alone.”

That was when Matt realized he had just crawled himself out of a nightmare. He wasn’t _that_ cold, hadn’t just ran a marathon, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t currently shaking like a drenched kitten or panting incredibly loudly to his own ears. His arms ached too, as if he had pulled himself out of a literal hole and up and up and up into the daunting reality of consciousness.

He swallowed and croaked out a pitiful, “Why?”

“Because no one ever did this for me before. Because no one ever thought I was important enough, _worthy_ enough. Because _I’ve_ never done this before.” The explanations only made Matt’s head hurt more. He fidgeted with the scratchy cloth over his eyes until Frost’s hand rested over his. “You gave me my life back.”

“No...” _No, that couldn’t be right. There’s no way he just said that._

“I feel _human_ again,” Frost continued and Matt stopped fidgeting and focused on breathing steadily. “ _You_ gave that back to me, Matt.”

_Don’t put that on me don’t put that on me don’t you_ dare _put that on me…_

And yet he still pulled Frost closer, blindly, in the total darkness. Frost conceded, moving where he was directed without reluctance while at the same time guiding Matt into a more comfortable position. They clung together, so beaten down and worn out but _alive,_ so blessedly fucking _alive_ that it wearied Matt’s bones even more just _realizing_ it.

“Twelve more hours of sleep,” Matt offered, in what he felt to be a reasonable amount of time to sufficiently recover enough to even _begin_ to decipher what all of this meant. “Then we can talk about this.” Or rather, then he’d have the energy to wring words out of Frost so he didn’t have to talk enough for the both of them.

“Sleep,” a more insistent urging this time, lips pressing against his own and retreating just as quickly as they had come, teasing him, manipulating him as was Frost’s go-to tactic. _Goddamn bastard, that’s what happens when I fall for a man of action and not a man of words._ Still, Matt licked his lips and could taste hope there, fractured and shivering and leaking blood but there.

He realized now that time, like sand, wasn’t slipping out from between his fingers. It was pooled safely in his palm.

He and Frost had all the time in the world now.

**FIN**

 


End file.
